


Head Over Heels

by milfjuno



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: ART by amythyst bless them..., Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Edging, Oral Sex, Other, Praise Kink, back on my horny bullshit, this is one ive been working on for a bit, wow look at all these exact same tags that are on every explicit fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26284660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milfjuno/pseuds/milfjuno
Summary: 'Don't get in over your head', were the exact words Buddy had used.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 6
Kudos: 200





	Head Over Heels

**Author's Note:**

> Peter's AFAB & Junos AMAB, both use exclusively male-coded language, I can't think of any CWs for this though?

_Don’t get in over your head._

These were the words Buddy used when Juno talked to her about how things had been going with Nureyev. Maybe he’d gotten a little too obviously smitten, gushed a bit too much, because she’d seen through what he’d thought was a fairly good job at acting impartial, and shut him down with a warning against rushing ahead.

“We’re not rushing,” Juno had assured her, “Hell, we’re not even sleeping together, just… Just, I dunno exactly, but we’re _something_. And it’s…” he’d floundered for the words to describe it, suddenly flustered.

“Juno…”

“It’s working out,” Juno had doubled down, “Okay? We’re taking it slow, but it’s… I have a good feeling, Buddy. I really do.”

The look Buddy had given him had been almost pitiful, but she’d sighed and said she trusted his judgement, that she believed in the two of their capabilities to define their own boundaries, and with that one final piece of advice, she’d sent him off.

_Don’t get in over your head._

Pff. Like Juno’s rushing into anything! It took them weeks of brushing fingers before they’d even held hands, let alone the month it took before Juno finally gave in to the tension and kissed Peter. And okay, maybe neither of them have been totally honest about the progression of their relationship to Buddy up until this point, but really, besides a few heated makeout sessions, no serious boundaries have been crossed. Nothing has been decided about their relationship yet. They’re just… going with what feels right.

He finds himself back at Peter’s room without really planning it, and chalks it down to a pleasant coincidence. He knocks, and only has to wait a second before Peter lets him in.

As usual, they end up on Peter’s bed, this time sitting cross legged in the middle of it. Or at least, Juno’s cross-legged. Peter’s got his knees to his chest, sitting immediately diagonal from Juno and close enough that his legs brush against Juno’s knee, staring at Juno with a tiny little smirk and sparkling eyes. He must’ve washed his hair recently, because it’s a little more fluffed up around his face than usual. Fuck, he’s so effortlessly pretty.

They’re not having a particularly serious discussion tonight. In fact--

“I just don’t see what people get about it. What would you even _do_ all day?”

“Good lord, Juno.”

“Okay, look. You cannot preach to me about not knowing how to take a break. When’s the last time you had one of these resort holidays you swear by, huh?”

That makes the corner of Nureyev’s mouth twitch, and he glances away, “At least I know what I’d _do_ if I had one.”

“What, then? Answer my question. What does a dream holiday look like for Peter Nureyev?” 

“Mm,” Nureyev uncoils his arms from around his knees and leans back on his hands on the bed. He closes his eyes and tips his head back, “Ideally? A lot of time to myself in the sun beside a pool, a lot of nice champagne, and a _lot_ of good morning sex.”

Juno laughs at that, and he sees Peter grin as well.

“Okay, you’re right,” Juno concedes. “That sounds pretty good. In theory. But come on, Nureyev. Time by yourself without just getting worked up over something insignificant? Nice try. And nice champagne can only fill so much emptiness. Not to mention, morning sex is overrated.”

Nureyev raises his eyebrows at his last statement, “That’s certainly an opinion.”

“It is! It’s cute until you have to deal with someone’s morning breath being panted in your face, trust me.”

Peter sighs, and he shifts to fix Juno with a look, “Must you be so pragmatic, Juno? Is it not enough to simply enjoy the _idea_ of waking up with a handsome man and ravishing him?”

“I’m more of a ravishee than ravisher, myself,” Juno says, mostly to joke away the images Peter’s stupid low voice conjures, and the way he might be imagining it but it seems like Peter is starting to look at him like a cat with its sights set on prey, “But anyway, bursting people’s bubbles is my whole thing, remember? It’s just a service I provide.”

Peter laughs at that. “You’re cute,” he says, and then leans over and kisses Juno before he can answer.

“Unfair,” Juno mutters when they part, “Not giving me a chance to deflect.”

“That _was_ the plan,” Peter smiles, and kisses him again.

Juno melts into Peter’s mouth, reaching up to put his hand into Peter’s hair. Nureyev’s smell fills his senses, and they smile at each other in the spaces between kisses. It’s chaste, and Peter shifts so that they’re closer together.

Peter kisses Juno again and Juno turns into it like a plant to the sun. He presses into the kiss and Peter’s hand comes up to brush the side of Juno’s face. Then he feels the tip of Peter’s tongue run against his bottom lip, flicking at his lip ring, and Juno feels a gentle sound slip past his teeth. 

Peter pulls away and Juno chases him forward, and Juno gets to hear Peter breathe his name just a second before he kisses him again. Peter’s teeth prick against Juno’s bottom lip, and then all of a sudden Peter’s tongue is in his mouth.

Juno turns his head into the kiss. His hand travels down before he thinks, tucks under Peter’s shirt to rest on his side, and Peter _shivers._

He breaks the kiss, and sets a look on Juno that very nearly has him shivering, too. Then they’re just stuck like that, looking at each other. Juno’s heart pounds against his ribs. He’d almost forgotten this -- the _anticipation_ that comes with resolving sexual tension.

“Juno,” Peter mutters, and then leans in to press a kiss to the corner of Juno’s mouth, his jaw.

Juno swallows. His voice shakes a little when it comes out, “I want…”

“What?” Nureyev asks, leaning back to catch Juno’s eye. “Anything, Juno.”

Juno spares one thought to Buddy’s words, but Peter’s gaze brings him back. He’s not getting in over his head. He’s an adult, he’s allowed to make his own decisions about what he wants… and what he wants, is undoubtedly--

“You,” Juno breathes out, “I want you.”

Peter sighs, and he leans in to graze his teeth over his jawline, “I want you, too. Have since I saw you, Juno. Haven’t stopped from the moment we met.”

“Yeah,” Juno chokes out, “I know the feeling.”

Nureyev chuckles, and Juno lets him guide him down onto the mattress. They kiss again, wasting no time before Peter’s tongue is back in Juno’s mouth. Juno lets both his hands rest on Peter’s waist this time, and groans as Peter kisses him.

Peter’s kisses trail from his lips, to the corner of his mouth again, and then down to the skin of his neck. Juno’s breath catches in his throat and then hitches out in a little gasp. Tingles run through Juno’s body, and he tips his head back so Peter has more skin to bite at, dizzy suddenly with the thought that he’s _actually_ here, rather than guiltily fantasising it back in his bed on Mars. The thought makes him let out a little huff of a laugh.

Nureyev hums, his mouth curling into a smile against Juno’s skin, “Mm. What?” 

“Just—” Juno’s voice freezes for a moment while Nureyev’s lips ghost over a particularly sensitive spot, “Thinking about how much I thought about this.”

Nureyev’s mouth stills against his neck, and a second later he uses the hand on Juno’s chest to push up and look at him, “You fantasised about me?”

The intense look in his eyes has the same effect on Juno as a bucket of cold water after one too many beers -- immediately sobering. Juno swallows and says, “All the time. I couldn’t have stopped thinking about you if I wanted to.”

“And…” Nureyev’s hand slides down Juno’s body, and Juno almost bucks his hips off the bed at the pressure of his lithe fingers over Juno’s fly, pressing against the line of his cock, “You’d… touch yourself when you thought about me?”

“Yes—yeah,” Juno breathes out, “I tried to fuck other people just to get you out of my head, but even then, I’d just start thinking about you and…”

He trails off when Nureyev swings a leg over his hips and straddles him. He leans down and catches Juno’s lips in a long, slow kiss that has him moaning helplessly.

“What would you fantasise?” Nureyev asks by his ear.

Juno’s breath shakes. His hands come to rest on Nureyev’s waist and he closes his eyes, “That you’d fuck me. O-or just touch me, I’d touch myself and pretend it was your hands, I’d think about you tying me up and bringing me right to the edge over and ov—hh,” Juno moans softly as Nureyev begins to grind against him through his clothes.

“Keep going,” Nureyev instructs, leaning down to start mouthing at Juno’s neck again.

Juno tries to focus past the heady heat of want unfurling in his lower stomach and the movement of Nureyev’s hips right over his dick, “I only got to eat you out once, but I’ve been thinking about it since. How badly I want to suck your cock, have you fuck my face.”

The sound Nureyev makes seems to imply approval, and Juno tries to grind his hips against Nureyev in time with his movements, but Nureyev holds him down.

“Patience, love,” Nureyev purrs right against his ear, “You’ll get what you need if you stay nice and patient for me.”

Juno’s never been one for being patient but he’s too preoccupied with the idea of getting Nureyev’s dick inside of him to be bratty. He stills, and Nureyev smiles against his neck.

“ _Good_ ,” he praises, and Juno lets out a breathless laugh.

“Used to think about that a lot, too,” he admits.

Nureyev pulls away to look up at him, “Me calling you good?” he asks.

“Something like that,” Juno says.

“Good boy?” Nureyev asks, and he must catch the hesitation before Juno answers because before Juno says a word, Nureyev cocks his head slightly.

“Good girl?” he suggests.

Even if he doesn’t feel the way Juno’s dick twitches underneath him, he definitely hears the pathetic little whimper that flits out of Juno’s throat, because his smile all at once goes pleased and satisfied.

“And, Juno,” Nureyev murmurs, leaning down so that their faces are close, “In your fantasies, were you always a good girl for me?”

“Uh-huh,” Juno almost whimpers again, but he manages to swallow and regain control of his voice, “Yeah.”

“And,” Nureyev seems closer, “would you be my good girl now, if I asked?”

“Yes,” Juno breathes, and Nureyev gives his full fox smile.

“I could get used to that,” he says, and then kisses him once, “You being my good, handsome girl.”

“Fucking hell,” Juno puts his hands over his face. He grins through a little breathless laugh, “You’re too sexy for me to have my pants on right now.”

Peter laughs a little, “Sit up, dear,” he says.

Juno complies, and Nureyev slips his hands under Juno’s shirt, tugging it up over his head. He tugs his own off seconds later.

The first thing Nureyev does is kiss him, and then he pulls slowly away and looks him over.

“You’re looking much healthier,” he says. “I’m glad you’ve recovered from that awful tomb.”

“Recovered and some,” Juno gives him a lopsided smile, then runs his hands over Peter’s hips, feels a little muscle and fat where there had been just bone the last time he touched him here, “You’re looking healthier too, Nureyev. It’s good.”

Nureyev smiles a little distantly, “Yes, after our… experience, I spent a few months working solely on recovery from the ordeal. It was… a little too close a call for my comfort.” Then he looks at Juno a little amused, “You know, I think this is the least sexy conversation we could be having right now.”

Juno laughs, “Alright then, _Agent Glass_ ,” he teases, “Give me a sexier one to work with.”

“Mmm,” Nureyev pushes Juno down on the blankets, “How about I tell you exactly what I want to do to you, and you can tell me what you think of my ideas?”

“Sounds agreeable,” Juno says, and Nureyev grins and leans down to kiss him.

“I’m going to tie you up,” he says lowly, “Get you on your pretty knees on the floor and let you suck my cock. Yes?”

Juno’s answer is a soft whine, and he bites his bottom lip and nods.

“And then I’m going to let you up, and then push you down on the bed and fuck you, and you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?’

“Yes,” Juno pants out, his dick throbbing against his fly, “Please.”

“Wonderful,” Nureyev says, and then rolls off of Juno, “Now, stand by the bed, take your pants off, and then get on your knees and wait for me. I need to get something to tie your wrists with.”

Juno swallows, and then props himself up on his elbows, “And my underwear?”

Nureyev looks at him curiously. Stupid question, Juno thinks to himself, and he goes to say that when Nureyev speaks up, “No. Keep those on for me. And that bra of yours, too. You look utterly divine in it.”

With a smirk, Nureyev rolls off the bed and steps away into the closet. Juno rolls off of the bed and undoes the fly of his pants, kicking them off of his legs. His hands are shaking slightly with anticipation, and he sinks down on his knees by the bed to wait for Nureyev to come back.

When he does, he’s wearing nothing except for a pair of black heels, a length of rope dangling from one of his hands. Juno would ask why he has it, but he both knows better than to ask - because of course Peter would just _have_ rope in his room - and is too busy watching the way Peter’s eyes are tracking over his body.

“Oh, _love_ ,” Nureyev purrs, “Darling. Look at you.”

Juno swallows. The view from here isn’t that bad, either, from Nureyev’s long legs to his pecs and his dick, pink and hard. Juno wants his mouth on it _now_.

“Do me a favour and turn around, would you, Juno?” Nureyev asks.

Juno frowns, but does as he’s told, turning around so he’s facing the wall. He hears the click of Peter’s heels, then feels more than hears him duck down close behind him. His hands trace over the front of Juno’s body, one over his chest and the other snaking down to rub at Juno’s dick through his panties. Juno tips his head back onto Nureyev’s shoulder and moans. “Fuck, Nureyev…”

Nureyev dips his head to kiss Juno’s cheek, and then leans back again. His hands trail around Juno’s back to where he’s already crossed his wrists, waiting, and begins to wrap rope around them. “I’m going to use the colour system tonight, are you familiar with it?”

Juno decides not to break the tension of the moment, and so bites back a comment on the fact that he’s spent the better part of the last 15 years involved in the kink scene and is fairly certain he’s far more experienced in this department than Peter is. He nods.

“Good,” Nureyev tugs the rope so it’s just a little tight around Juno’s arms - not tight enough for him to be worried about circulation, but enough to effectively limit his movement. Then he stands, and walks around to face Juno again. His hips are provocatively close to Juno’s face for a moment. Juno leans up, and Peter steps back.

“Ah, ah, not yet. Eager, aren’t you?” Nureyev smirks down at him. His hand cups Juno’s face, and Juno closes his eyes, leaning into the touch.

“That’s right,” Peter swipes his finger over Juno’s lower lip, “You look stunning, Juno. So handsome. I can’t wait to have your pretty little mouth on me.”

As though testing him, Nureyev presses his thumb further into Juno’s mouth. Juno opens his eye, looking up at him while he closes his lips around the digit and sucks.

Peter smiles approvingly, and takes his hand away again. He brushes his hand over Juno’s cheek again, and then both of his hands come to fist in Juno’s hair. He tugs. Juno moans.

“What do you want, Juno?” Peter asks.

“Wanna taste you,” Juno looks up at him, “Want you to use my face, my tongue. Please.”

“Good girl,” Peter purrs, and then his hands guide Juno’s face forward, and Juno opens his mouth and closes his lips over the nub of Peter’s dick.

Nureyev makes a low sound right away, Juno groans and swirls his tongue around Nureyev’s dick, then sucks gently. Nureyev pushes against the back of Juno’s head, tipping his head back and rolling his hips into Juno’s mouth. 

Juno’s so hard that even the friction of his dick against his thigh when he adjusts his position minutely is sending off little sparks into the bottom of his gut. Nureyev’s legs spread a little, one of his hands leaving Juno’s head and the other guiding him a little lower so that Juno can tongue at his entrance.

“That’s it,” Nureyev hisses, “ _Juno_.”

Juno groans his response, tasting the salt-savory slick between Peter’s legs and dragging his tongue back up to his dick again, sucking at him. His smell is all Juno can breathe, his taste and the feel of his dick against Juno’s mouth fills his senses completely. 

Juno’s cock twitches in his underwear, and he doesn’t care. All that matters is feeling the way Nureyev’s fingers clench in his hair, the ‘ah, ah’ sounds he makes as Juno presses his tongue in the right ways. He wants to run his hands up Peter’s thighs, but he knows that’s not his job tonight. Peter adjusts him where he wants him, forces him closer and pulls him back again.

Juno knows Nureyev gets close because he starts to shake, his fingers clenching constantly in Juno’s hair. Juno presses a kiss to Nureyev’s dick, then takes it back into his mouth again and flicks his tongue against it.

Nureyev groans, and his back hits the wall. Huh. So that was why he had Juno turn to face it. He can’t say he’s complaining. The view this gives him now, as he looks up, is phenomenal. Peter Nureyev, a rosy flush high on his cheeks, his dark eyes half-lidded and lust-filled, slumped against the wall with his mouth hanging open as he pulls Juno’s face closer into his dick again.

Juno sucks at Nureyev’s dick, and gets to see the way a tremble runs up Nureyev’s body, the way his eyes roll back just a bit. Nureyev pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and lets his head fall back against the wall, “That’s it, love,” he pants. “Good.”

Juno moans and licks back down to Nureyev’s entrance again. He opens Nureyev up with his tongue, and Nureyev arches back against the wall, “Oh, oh, Juno,” he pants, “Oh.”

He pulls Juno almost painfully close against his skin, guiding him to the right angle for Juno to press his tongue further inside of him. Then he gasps, and yanks Juno’s head back just to guide him back to his cock again. Juno reacts enthusiastically, taking it back into his mouth and hearing Nureyev cry out.

Juno keeps sucking while Nureyev comes, feeling the way his dick pulses against his tongue. He’s suddenly desperately aware of his own hardness again, and when Nureyev releases him to slump back against the wall and recover, Juno feels something very close to a bereft whine escape his throat.

Nureyev sighs out, and then he looks down at Juno. His face is still flushed, his breath coming out of him a little unevenly. Juno feels no small amount of satisfaction.

“Oh, Juno, you wretched thing,” Nureyev grins down at him. He doesn’t look finished, not yet. In fact, he almost looks more predatory than he did before. 

Juno supposes the way he looks doesn’t help that. His face is wet with Nureyev’s slick, and his cock is hard and leaking in his panties, and he’s still tied up, hopeless and desperate.

“Let me help you up, dear,” Nureyev says, leaning down to grab Juno’s shoulders and help him get to his feet, “How are you doing, alright?”

“Yeah,” Juno says breathlessly, “Fine, just… really want you to fuck me right now.”

“How are the ropes? Can you stay like this for a moment?”

“They’re fine, yeah, just--”

“Here,” Nureyev sits Juno down on the edge of the bed, “Let me get my strap and clean your face up, my love. You stay right there.”

As if he has a choice. Juno tips his head back and tries not to focus on the aching between his legs. Soon, though, Peter’s back.

“Fuck,” Juno says.

Nureyev smiles. He’s taken off his heels, but he has on a mid-length, slightly curved, hot pink strap. Juno recognises it immediately as the one that Nureyev almost fucked his brains out of his head with back in Hyperion, and for a moment he’s dangerously worried he’s just going to come untouched in his underwear, driven to orgasm by the _thought_ of Peter Nureyev.

“Now,” Nureyev walks to the edge of the bed. He cleans off Juno’s face and then unties his ropes. He spends a moment checking over Juno’s wrists, and then smiles, “How do you want it?”

Juno swallows, “Tie my wrists to the headboard?” he asks, “Put me on my knees. Fuck me from behind.”

Nureyev just leans in and presses a kiss to Juno’s lips, “Anything you want, pet.”

They shuffle into position on the bed, and Nureyev re-ties Juno’s wrists so that he’s bound to the headboard. He drags his nails lightly down Juno’s body, making him shiver, and then curls around to the underside of his belly.

“Fuck!” Juno gasps when Nureyev wraps his hand around his cock, “Yes, yeah, oh my God.”

Nureyev chuckles against Juno’s back, kisses the back of his neck, and lets go of him. Juno whines for a moment, and then abruptly stops when he hears the click of the lube bottle cap. 

The first press of Nureyev’s slender finger into his body has every muscle in Juno’s body set alight. Juno tries to push his hips back against Peter’s hand, but he only laughs against Juno’s skin again. “Patience, my dear.”

“Don’t wanna be patient anymore,” Juno mutters, “Wanna fucking come.”

“It’s alright,” Nureyev soothes him, “You’ll get there. Just relax and enjoy it.”

A second finger presses in against the first, and Juno groans softly and rests his forehead against one of his arms. Nureyev thrusts slowly at first, trying different angles in Juno’s body. It takes a bit of experimenting, but then Nureyev’s fingers curl on a spot and Juno makes a choked sound, his cock jumping as sensation floods his body.

“There?” Nureyev asks against his back, and hits Juno’s prostate again with his fingers.

Juno’s response is a low groan, and he feels Nureyev grin against his shoulder.

Peter fucks Juno on his fingers, brushing over his prostate each time. He keeps using two for an infuriatingly long amount of time, until Juno is gasping and begging, “Please, more, Nureyev. Please, baby… _uh_ , fuck…”

“Listen to you,” Nureyev growls into his ear, “Desperate for it, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Juno hiccups over the word as a third finger presses in against the other two. He tips his head back, “ _Ohh,_ yes, yeah, fucking hell…”

His cock is throbbing, each movement of Peter’s fingers sending electric spikes up his spine and down right to the tip of his cock, but never enough to make him come. He endures three fingers for as long as he can before he gasps out.

“Fuck me. Nureyev, fuck me, I can’t fucking take this, please…”

“Colour?” Peter checks, and Juno groans.

“Green. Just… wanna be fucked sometime in the next week.”

That earns him a breathless chuckle, and Nureyev’s relentless movement against his prostate stops, “Alright then. Whatever the lady demands.”

His fingers pull out of Juno’s body, and Juno arches, his spine dipping down as he tries to fuck himself backwards onto nothing, “Nureyev--”

“Shh, shh,” Nureyev slides his hands over the curve of Juno’s ass, “I’ve got you, love.”

Juno feels the head of Peter’s strap come to press against his entrance, and he gasps. Then Nureyev begins to push inside of him, and Juno feels his eye roll back. It’s perfect, the right length to fill without overwhelming him, the curve just right so the head presses against his prostate. Juno has to fight not to come right away and ruin the moment.

“Oh, Juno,” Nureyev pants, and rolls his hips slowly, “You feel so good. So good, my darling.”

“Nureyev,” Juno’s voice comes out rough and broken. “ _Nureyev_.”

Nureyev’s hands slide down Juno’s back, and he pulls out and slides back in, “Is there a problem, Juno?”

He says this over the high-tight whine Juno lets out when Peter moves. Juno pants, and then grits his teeth, “Fuck you.”

Nureyev stills inside Juno, ignoring his ‘no—no, wait—’ and leans down to nibble at his shoulder absentmindedly, “Is that what you’d prefer? It’s not too late to change positions—”

“You know what I _want_ , Nureyev,” Juno keens. He closes his lips over the _please_ that almost falls out after it – if Nureyev is denying him this, Juno can deny him the chance to hear him beg.

But that’s hard when Nureyev is so _infuriatingly good_ at what he does. His mouth still on Juno’s shoulder, he only has to turn his head a little until his breath is hot on Juno’s ear. “Say it,” Nureyev says, voice low-pitched. “Tell me you want it.”

Shivers run down Juno’s spine. His breath shakes when he breathes in, “I wanna come.”

Nureyev kisses the back of his neck, and then leans back. “No,” he says. “You want to be a good girl for me. Don’t you, Juno?”

Words escape him. Juno nods, breathlessly.

“Words, love,” Nureyev reminds him.

“Yes,” Juno breathes out.

“ _Good,”_ Peter praises, and punctuates it with a snap of his hips.

Juno’s head whips back; he arches with a cry.

“Good girl,” Nureyev mutters, and keeps fucking him. It feels so good, Juno could cry – every thrust hitting right into his prostate, his body sensitised from all the teasing.

“ _Fu—uck,”_ Juno’s voice breaks on a whine, and he lowers his head back down. Nureyev’s breath is harsh, and he groans.

“ _Juno,”_ he gasps out, “Oh, love. So nice for me.”

Juno’s response is a series of hoarse groans. His body buzzes with stimulation, and he feels his other senses seem to dull, his eyes losing focus on the slats of the headboard, his mouth hanging open uselessly. He wants to reach for his cock, but even if his hands weren’t bound he thinks he’d be too delirious with pleasure to coordinate his limbs. Nureyev hits particularly deep on a thrust and Juno arches.

“Oh my fucking _god,”_ he pants, barely registering the feeling of his cock twitching as he slurs out, “Ple- _ase_ , _fuck_ , ‘ts so good, baby, please…”

“Mm,” Nureyev slides back and slams just as hard again, and the tightness of his grip on Juno’s hips tells him he’s close, “You like that, don’t you? Do you want to come, Juno?”

“Please,” Juno rasps out, “So fucking close, I’m _so_ fucking close.”

Nureyev chuckles lowly and changes his tactic, shifting from fucking him to giving him short, shallow thrusts. Each one sends waves up Juno’s stomach and a jolt to his balls that threaten to spill him over the edge, but never quite do, “Selfish thing. And why should I let you?” 

“I—“ Juno’s beyond coherency, which is what Peter probably wants, wants him helpless and lust driven and entirely within his control. He groans softly, and tries to find his voice, “Please,” he whimpers again.

“Mm,” Peter says again, and then he groans. His thrusts start to get a little stronger, and Juno pants and squeezes his eye shut and is almost, almost there—

“ _Oh_ ,” Peter pushes his hips forward into Juno and folds over his back. He whines softly into Juno’s shoulder, his body trembling as he comes, and Juno suddenly finds himself biting his lip to stop himself from crying.

“Oh, Juno,” Nureyev murmurs, “Oh. That was so good, love. You’re so good for me, darling.”

Juno lets out a shaking, watery breath and Peter moves, kisses his shoulder, “Colour?”

“Green,” Juno pants, “Just— not sure how much longer I can t- _fuck!”_

“Oh, _love_ ,” Peter’s fingers swipe over the head of his cock where he’s reached around to encircle it loosely, “You’re dripping, you wretched thing. How debauched you are.”

Juno tries to talk, but all that comes out of his mouth are broken gasps. He feels himself twitching in Peter’s hand, and Peter smiles against the back of his neck.

“Come on, now,” he purrs softly, “Be a good girl for me, Juno.” 

He tightens his fingers and pumps Juno’s cock once, twice, and Juno screams a long, hoarse cry, twisting in his restraints as he comes into Peter’s hand, on the blankets underneath him. Peter holds him through it, still inside him and wrapped around him from behind, muttering dirty things into Juno’s ear as his cock pulses in his hand. Juno isn’t listening -- he can’t focus on anything beyond the seizing of his muscles and the feeling in his veins, agonizingly perfect. 

He makes soft, whining sounds as he comes down from the high. His head is pleasantly cotton-filled and empty, and he can barely do anything but groan softly while Peter pulls out, cleans his hand, and sets to work on the knots keeping his wrists to the headboard.

Peter lets him down and Juno falls into his arms. 

“Fuck,” he says softly, and Nureyev laughs.

“Was that good for you?” he asks, “Anything you didn’t like?”

“No,” Juno sighs, “‘S perfect. Just… coming back down still. Fuck.”

Peter grins. He pulls the blankets down and manoeuvres Juno into them, before curling up around him. 

Juno feels the weight of Nureyev’s head on his chest. On his breathing against Juno’s body, and the leg he’s thrown between Juno’s own. Nureyev shifts to press a kiss to the curls of hair between Juno’s bra cups, and then looks up at him.

 _Don’t get in over your head_ , Buddy had said. Like that piece of advice didn’t come a few years too late.

“Are you alright?” Nureyev asks, looking at him like he did that night, like he’s on the eve of a bright new future.

“Yeah,” Juno says, and thinks to himself that maybe morning sex isn’t that bad after all. Or at least, not with Nureyev. He hopes to test the theory as soon as possible.


End file.
